


Confidence

by somebodywakeuphicks



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Not your typical Jopper, Probably not the smut you're expecting, There is smut-be warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 17:03:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17207405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somebodywakeuphicks/pseuds/somebodywakeuphicks
Summary: Joyce finds confidence in an unexpected way.





	Confidence

She looked like a movie star, at least to Joyce. Perhaps around the same age as herself, maybe slightly younger. Blonde waves cascading to the tops of her shoulders. A tan trench coat wrapped around her A+ curves. Joyce blinked as she stared at the woman across from her at the cash register of Melvald’s.

The woman reached her hand out. “Hi, I’m Lorraine.”

Joyce reciprocated, taking Lorraine’s hand into hers, but not without awkwardness. “Hi, uh, I’m—I’m Joyce. Right.”

Lorraine laughed, but not the kind one would expect from a movie star, the register lower, more down to earth. “Well, hi, Joyce. I’m new in town and just trying to introduce myself to everyone I can. I’ve never lived in a small town before, and so far, I like it.”

“Oh?” Joyce finally found her words. “Where are you from?”

“California. Near LA.”

_Of course._

“Husband and I got divorced, and I’m sick and tired of all the traffic. I figured some fresh air would do me and my daughter some good, although she doesn’t seem to think so.”

“A daughter?” Joyce asked. “How old?”

“Sixteen. Name’s Robin. She just started a job at the mall down the street, Starcourt. I’m working there, too, as a hairstylist. Hope to open my own place at some point.”

Joyce knew the mall well. Ever since it opened, business at Melvald’s had been slower. A lot slower. Joyce worried for the future of her job.

“Well, it was nice to meet you, Joyce. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

She didn’t know what made her hesitate. It was so unlike her. “Wait—since you’re new, you and your daughter probably don’t have many friends, yet. I have two sons, fourteen and eighteen, and they have a bunch of friends, as well. Maybe you’d both like to come over for dinner sometime?”

“That sounds lovely!” Lorraine pulled out her little planner, flipping through it. “I’m working most days this week, but I’m free on Thursday. Would that fit your schedule?”

“Yeah. Here, let me write down the address.”

After Lorraine left, Joyce leaned against the back counter and sighed. Why did she invite that woman over? Surely, her house looked like a garbage dump compared to wherever Lorraine lived. She wasn’t sure her boys would be too pleased about being forced into a “playdate” with a random girl. But most of all, she and Hopper had been spending more time together lately. Nothing had come of it, of course, but not for lack of want on Joyce’s end. She just didn’t know how to tell him. He’d always been one to appreciate beautiful women, and Lorraine certainly wouldn’t be an exception. She must be a masochist or something, throwing Lorraine into the face of her crush. Although, as police chief, he’d probably meet her, anyway. If she and Lorraine became friends, she’d at least get an inside scoop if there ended up being one. 

On Thursday, Joyce woke up early and scrubbed every inch of her house. Jonathan and Will knew better not to question it, but she was sure they wondered if she was crazy. She got out her nicest dishes and replaced moth-eaten curtains with new ones from Melvald’s, even though she honestly couldn’t afford them. What did women in LA eat? Caviar? Veal? No, she’d have to settle for a nice lasagna.

At six o’clock, everyone began showing up: Hopper and Jane, Nancy, Steve, and of course, Will’s club or team or whatever he called it these days. All in all, she’d have thirteen people in her tiny house, and she was a mess. 

At six-fifteen, the bell rang once more. “Joyce!” Lorraine hugged her and handed her what looked to be an expensive bottle of wine. Joyce explored her face for any signs of regret or disgust, finding nothing. “This place is so cute, isn’t it, Robin?”

“Sure,” her daughter said.

“Robin?”

“Steve? I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

“You two know each other?” Lorraine asked.

“Yeah, Steve and I work together,” Robin said.

“Wonderful! Already getting to know each other! And who is this?” Lorraine gave a long look toward Hopper.

“Oh, this—this is my _friend_ , Jim Hopper,” Joyce said, sliding a hand along his arm. “He’s the police chief of Hawkins. Hop, this is Lorraine.”

“Police chief, huh? Well, that’s something.”

 _Aaaaand over_. Joyce’s heart sunk. Why did she sabotage herself like this?

The rest of the evening went as well as could be expected. Robin seemed to get along with the older teens, especially Steve, Joyce noticed. The adults broke out the wine, and at one point, Hopper excused himself to the bathroom.

Joyce summoned up courage to broach the subject. “So, what do you think of Hopper?”

“Oh, he’s nice. His daughter seems real sweet.”

“And—?"

“And what? He’s totally into you, if that’s what you mean.”

Joyce’s heart stopped. “What?”

“Joyce, the man can’t stop looking at you and finding any excuse to touch you. Believe me, I know it when I see it.”

 _No way_ , Joyce thought. Not with a perfect ten right in front of him. Lorraine was probably just being nice. At least she didn’t seem that interested in Hopper, herself.

After everyone went home and Joyce finally sat down to relax, the phone rang.

“Hello, Joyce? It’s Lorraine.”

“Oh, hi. Is everything alright? I hope you had a good time tonight. I know my place is kind of…humble.”

“Don’t even talk like that! It was great! I was just calling to tell you what a great time I had and that I’d like to do it again sometime. Well, not force myself into your home, of course. But have you all over here. If I’m honest, I didn’t really have too many girlfriends in LA, so I’m pretty excited to have met you.”

Joyce rolled her eyes, then felt bad. It’s possible she was so busy that she didn’t have time to make friends, or maybe she was one of those women who only had guy friends. If she didn’t want Lorraine to judge her life, she realized she probably shouldn’t judge hers. “Well, I’m glad we met, too,” she said. “And yes, let’s hang out again. Isn’t that what the kids call it?”

Over the next several weeks, the pair did hang out, sometimes with Hopper, sometimes without. Lorraine encouraged Joyce to make a move on him, but she always declined, having one excuse or another as to why it wouldn’t work. Besides, wasn’t _he_ the one who was supposed to make a move on _her_ if he actually liked her that much? And that hadn’t happened. Lorraine reminded her it wasn’t 1952, but even so, Joyce couldn’t bring herself to do it. In any case, she saw how the men of Hawkins acted around Lorraine, especially when they went to the pool. She was beautiful. Glamorous. Sexy. Joyce felt like a dud next to her. If Hopper didn’t show any interest in Lorraine, how could he possibly be interested in Joyce?

One night, near the end of summer, Joyce stopped by Lorraine’s house for dinner, along with Robin and Steve. After the dishes had been done, the teens put a movie on and the women migrated to the back porch.

“Anything happen between you and Hopper, yet?” Lorraine asked. She hadn’t brought it up in two weeks, to the relief of Joyce.

The wind picked up, whipping Joyce’s hair into her face. She brushed it out of the way, looking up at the sky. “Storm’s coming, I think.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Joyce sighed. “No.”

“I mean, if you don’t actually have feelings for him…”

“You know I do!” Joyce whispered through her teeth. “It’s complicated.”

“What’s so complicated about it?”

Joyce hesitated, wondering if she should tell her new friend her insecurities. “It’s just that—well, I told you about Bob, right? So there was that for awhile. It made sense not to push things after all that happened. But now, there’s not Bob. And Hop’s still not making a move. I see so many men pursuing you, that when I’m with you, I feel sort of invisible. So that leads me to believe that if Hop’s not even interested in you, why the hell would he be interested in someone like me?”

Lorraine stayed quiet for a minute. “Would it make you feel better if he was into me?”

“No!”

“Is it possible that he doesn’t know you’re ready to move on and doesn’t want to push things? Or is it possible he doesn’t know you want him, because men can be oblivious?”

Joyce shrugged.

“He wants you. Trust me. Who wouldn’t?”

Joyce breathed in sharply. “What do you mean by that?”

“Look at you, Joyce. You’re gorgeous. I mean, you could use a little help in the clothing department. I say that as a female friend. But you’re a complete knockout.”

Joyce blushed, not knowing what to say to that. She’d never thought of herself that way, before.

Lightning flashed, followed almost immediately by a crack of thunder. Joyce looked at her watch. “Wow, it’s almost midnight. I should probably get going. Thanks for having me over.”

“Anytime.”

Joyce headed to her car, but when she turned the key, the engine sputtered and died. “Shit!” At just that moment, the sky opened up, and sheets of rain poured down. “Double shit!” Joyce ran the few feet back into Lorraine’s house, completely drenched by the time she reached the door. “My car died. Any chance you could give me a ride?”

“Oh, Joyce! Why don't you stay the night, since the weather is positively awful. Steve’s sleeping on the couch. You could take my bed.”

“Where will you sleep?” Joyce asked.

“My bed’s a queen. We can both fit. Unless you’re uncomfortable with that?”

“N—no. That’s fine. I should call my boys and let them know what’s going on.”

Not twenty seconds after she made the phone call, the lights went out. 

“Well, shit. I guess I should light some candles,” Lorraine said, digging through drawers to find a lighter. “I’ll get you something dry to sleep in as soon as I can get enough light going to see.”

Thirty minutes later, Joyce had changed out of her clothes and into a slinky, royal blue nightgown Lorraine had lent her. She wrapped a thick robe around herself, feeling uncomfortable in something so luxurious. Lorraine stepped out of her bathroom in a robe, only this one, made of silk, hugged every perfect curve of her body. She climbed into bed with Joyce and turned to face her, the glow of the candles illuminating her face. “You okay?”

“No, not exactly.”

“Talk to me. What’s up?”

“I—I’m just not very comfortable with myself. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’ve been through a lot and I’m a stronger person for it. I know that. I’ll do anything for my boys. I’m not meek. But I’m not confident, either. You seem so comfortable with yourself. So free. And—okay, I’ll be honest. I’m a little bit envious of you.”

Lorraine put her hand on top of Joyce’s. “Don’t be. Like I said before, you’re a knockout. I know you don’t know it, but other people know it. Your cheekbones are to die for. You’ve got that cute, little petite body with disproportionately large breasts. Many men’s dream. A lovely smile. And you know what? Those things aren’t that important when it comes down to it. I let my husband walk all over me. You didn’t. I didn’t make a lot of friends in LA, because my husband was so insecure that I would cheat on him, and I listened. Luckily, I got a lot of money out of him in the divorce.” She laughed, and Joyce smiled.

“I wish there had been money to even get out of my husband. More the other way around, if that.”

Lorraine propped herself up onto her shoulder. “So what’s so special about Hopper? How’s he different from these shit men we’ve married?”

Joyce didn’t want to explain the ins and outs of Will’s disappearance and how Hopper risked his own life to find her boy. She’d mentioned Bob’s death, but not the extent of it. Someday. “He’s been through some pretty bad shit, too. Don’t tell him I told you this, but his daughter died when she was five. Cancer.”

“Oh, that’s terrible.”

“He divorced and came back to town in really bad shape. And I don’t want to go into details, but my youngest went missing and also struggled through some health problems, and Hop dropped everything to help, in both instances. He’s now caring for a daughter he didn’t know he had. He’s really stepped up to be a great man. Not a perfect man. But someone I respect a lot.”

“Well, there you go. You’ve got something special, but you’re afraid you don’t deserve it.” She thought for a moment. “Listen, maybe we could sort of—work through how to approach Hopper? I could give you some tips on being more…confident.”

Joyce breathed a sigh of relief. “That would be great.”

“You’ve gotta believe you’re sexy. Or fake it till you make it, as they say.” She fanned herself. “It’s hot in here. I’m gonna shed this robe if that’s okay.”

Joyce nearly choked.

“And that’s the first step. Make him want you even more than he already does.” Lorraine loosened the belt of her robe and shrugged out of it. Underneath, she wore a matching bra and thong set, light blue and so sheer that she might as well have been naked. If Joyce had thought she had the perfect breasts before, this was confirmation. Large C—maybe small D—and perfectly full.

Lorraine must’ve noticed her staring and gave her a half-grin. “Your turn.”

Joyce took a shaky breath and undid her robe, pulling it off. The royal blue fabric clung to her breasts and Lorraine let out a hum of approval. 

“Very nice. You’re so sexy, Joyce. Why don’t you show me how you’d want Hopper to touch you?”

Joyce didn’t want to admit it, but Lorraine’s comments torpedoed straight to her groin, searing and tight. Her stomach leapt like a bunch of out of control bouncy balls. She slid the straps of her nightgown down below her chest and took Lorraine’s hand, gently placing it on one breast. 

Lorraine swallowed audibly. “Good. Now what?”

“Uh, I guess I’d want him to put his mouth there.”

“You guess or you do? You’ve gotta tell me.”

Joyce closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them and looked at Lorraine. “Put your mouth right here.” She gave Lorraine’s hand a tight squeeze over her breast. 

Joyce slid onto her back and Lorraine climbed on top of her, both women breathing a little bit harder than before. Lorraine massaged both breasts before bringing one erect nipple into her mouth. She sucked at it and toyed with the other nipple while Joyce arched her back, whimpering.

“Now imagine that you’re Hopper and I’m you. What do you want to do to me?”

Joyce climbed out from underneath Lorraine and reached around her back, unclasping her bra and letting it fall to the bed. Her teardrop breasts swung free and Joyce bent down to lick them, taking turns pulling each nipple into her mouth. She was so tight and wet at this point, it nearly hurt. She moved her way down Lorraine’s body, nibbling at her cinched stomach and down her curvier hips and long legs. She paused. Lorraine must’ve sensed her hesitation, because she pulled her back up face to face and kissed her, long and slow, grabbing Joyce’s ass and rubbing up against her leg, letting Joyce do the same. 

Lorraine pulled away and looked into Joyce’s eyes. “Can I make you come? I’d like to do that for you.”

“Please.” 

She slipped the rest of the gown down and off of Joyce’s body. “So sexy. Hopper’s gonna love you.”

Joyce felt her whole body flush under the stare of the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen.

Lorraine licked at Joyce’s mouth, down her neck, trailing a path in between her breasts and down her stomach to the crux of her desire. She didn’t dive right in, though. She took her time with Joyce’s inner thighs and the outer edges of her folds until finally—her hot mouth pressed against her clit, causing Joyce to moan and buck right into Lorraine’s face.

“Shh, the kids are out there, remember? You’re so wet, sweetheart. Is that for Hopper or for me?” She winked.

Joyce just groaned. She wanted this woman inside her any way possible. Lorraine knew, sliding two fingers inside, curling and pumping and licking. Joyce grasped Lorraine’s head, thrusting herself carefully against Lorraine’s mouth and fingers, making little grunts and moans as quietly as she could muster. The heat between her legs built and crawled down her thighs and into her toes and before she knew it, she was coming hard into Lorraine’s stupidly gorgeous cupid’s bow mouth.

She didn’t want it to end.

Lorraine reached under the bed and, in her daze, Joyce got to ogle her perfectly heart-shaped ass. When she came back up, she held a box, and when she opened it, Joyce stifled a giggle. “Who’s wearing that?”

“I am, silly. If you want the full Hopper experience, someone’s gotta wear a penis.”

Joyce couldn’t help the excitement that built in the pit of her belly. 

Lorraine slid her panties off and replaced them with the strap on, a rather large one, Joyce noted. She lubed it up and positioned herself between Joyce’s legs. “You ready for this, sweetheart?” she said in a mock-man voice. 

Joyce smiled and cocked her legs open. 

“Mmm, I do like that view,” she continued.

“Just fuck me, already,” Joyce said.

Lorraine pushed into Joyce, and Joyce arched and let out a gasp as her insides wrapped around the cock. It stung, but in a good way, and Lorraine pressed kisses to Joyce’s face as she waited. Joyce nodded, and Lorraine began thrusting, gently at first. Joyce’s hands wandered all over Lorraine’s body, exploring it, appreciating it. She watched as Lorraine’s breasts hung in front of her face, bouncing and jiggling with every thrust, and it turned her on all the more. She curled her hips into Lorraine’s, meeting her over and over. They kissed, touching each other everywhere, chests heaving, breaths wavering.

“Oh, god, Lorraine—your tits and your perfect everything—”

Lorraine moaned at her words.

“You’re so sexy—ah—I’m coming again!”

Lorraine thrust into her hard as Joyce tightened then released around the strap on. She slid out and both women fell to their backs, catching their breath. Lorraine looked to Joyce and smiled. “So I’m Lorraine, now?”

“You always were.”

The lights came back on then, blinding in what had been a warm glow. 

“Wanna cap off the night with a shower?” Lorraine asked.

“Sounds great.”

Joyce’s eyes widened when she saw Lorraine’s shower. Large and tiled with one of those fancy shower heads, Joyce thought about her cramped, mildewy shower at home. Lorraine started thewater and both women climbed in. Joyce watched as Lorraine shampooed her hair and lathered herself up, lingering on her breasts, something Joyce suspected she did on purpose. Before she could change her mind, she flung all of Lorraine’s shampoo and soap bottles off the tiled ledge and pushed her against the wall.

“What’re you—”

Joyce pressed her mouth to Lorraine’s and brought her hand down between the woman’s legs. “I wanna try going down on you.”

Lorraine’s face brightened. “Yes!” She slid down the wall, seated on the ledge and spread her legs wide for Joyce. “Don’t mind if I give you tips, m’kay?” Lorraine said as her eyelids fluttered closed while Joyce pressed kisses to her inner thigh. She rubbed her fingers along Lorraine’s opening. Exploring another woman’s pussy fascinated her. She took her folds into her mouth, sucking, then flattened her tongue and ran it all the way up to her clit. Lorraine moaned, probably a little too loudly with how the shower echoed, and asked for more. Joyce slid two fingers into Lorraine, finding her wet, something that pleased her immensely. Joyce continued pleasuring her with her mouth and hand while Lorraine let out a desperate moan and strings of yeses. She gave her good direction—a little to the left, faster—and before long, Joyce tasted her as she came, thrilled she was able to make it happen.

“Come back to the bedroom,” Lorraine said, as she pulled a wet Joyce after her. The two fell onto the bed, giggling and kissing. It was nearly four a.m. before they fell asleep.

The next morning, Joyce woke to an empty bed. She smelled coffee, and wrapping last night’s robe around herself, walked into the kitchen.

“Hey, you,” Lorraine said, smiling and handing her a cup of coffee. Her dried clothes were folded neatly on the kitchen table.

“Hey.” Joyce glanced to the floor, blushing. “Where are the kids?”

“Work already. Listen, last night was pretty great. You’re something special, Joyce. I want you to know that.”

“I had a great time, too. But, um—” 

Lorraine lifted Joyce’s chin. “Hey. I know. _I know._ I didn’t expect anything out of this last night, and I don’t, now, either. I’m not gonna lie, I’d be open to something if you were, but I’m an adult, and I knew then and and still do that you love Hopper.”

Joyce snorted.

“No, really. And that’s great. I only hope you feel like the confident, go-getter woman you deserve to feel like, and that maybe I helped get you there.”

Joyce set down her mug of coffee and cupped Lorraine’s face, kissing her with such sincerity that it brought tears to Lorraine’s eyes. Joyce pressed her head against the other woman’s forehead for a few seconds before squeezing her hand and withdrawing. “You did. And I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Joyce changed and left without another word. The sun shone and a nice breeze blew, and Joyce needed to walk, even if it was three miles. She’d call to get the car towed later. 

In the next three weeks, as she saw Jonathan off to college and prepared to send Will to high school, she deliberately kept her distance from both Lorraine and Hopper. She knew Lorraine would understand. Hopper would expect her to be busy with the kids. She wouldn’t stay away from either of them forever. She just needed the time to herself.

Twenty-two days after the night at Lorraine’s, Joyce invited Hopper and Jane over for dinner. “Long time, no see,” Hopper had joked, but she knew he knew there had to be a good reason.

After dinner, as the kids settled down in front of the tv for a movie, Joyce pulled Hopper into the back hallway. “I need to talk to you.”

“What’s so serious that you can’t talk to me in front of the rug rats?” he said, smirking, but she wiped the smile clean off his face by grabbing the front of his shirt, yanking it down, and kissing him. He froze for a moment before reaching around her waist and pulling her in tight.

When they broke apart, Joyce took Hopper’s hands into her own. “I love you. I have for a long time, but I didn’t realize it until a few weeks ago. I’ve been too afraid to tell you how I feel, afraid you wouldn’t feel the same way and that it would ruin our friendship. But I’m done being afraid. If you don’t feel the same way, be honest. I can take it, and I’ll be fine.”

Hopper stared at her, wide-eyed.

“I’ll be fine, Hop. Promise. But you need to at least say something, not just stare at me.”

He ran his hands through her hair, finding her lips once more. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you how I feel, but I never knew how to bring it up without seeming insensitive about—you know.”

“I’m ready. Trust me.”

“I love you, too.”

“Stay the night.”

Hopper cleared his throat. “I’d like that.”


End file.
